


Make Me a Bird Not a Weapon

by CatHeights



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-06
Updated: 2011-03-06
Packaged: 2017-10-16 03:55:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/168146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatHeights/pseuds/CatHeights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the hundredth day they're stranded on this damn planet, John sits by the ocean and watches a bird flying low across the water. It's the first sign of life he's seen since the initialization of the Sequetarian weapon against the Wraith.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make Me a Bird Not a Weapon

**Author's Note:**

> While I don't consider this a death fic, as no main character dies, John and Rodney have witnessed an apocalyptic event.

On the hundredth day they're stranded on this damn planet, John sits by the ocean and watches a bird flying low across the water. It's the first sign of life he's seen since the initialization of the Sequetarian weapon against the Wraith. The bird banks sharply and lifts into the air, gliding effortlessly. It's one of the most beautiful things John has seen. His chest aches and he swallows hard. He wishes he had wings, wishes he was that bird, so he could fly Rodney away from here. God how he misses the feel of a Jumper at his command.

Why waste time now thinking about what he misses? It's looking like he'll have plenty of time to do that in the days to come, and Rodney's always better at voicing complaints anyway. Besides at least when Rodney does it, he can attempt to find some humor in it, and right now he has something better to do—witness flight.

John moves quickly along the rocky coast, keeping the bird in sight and choosing paths that take him higher so he has a better vantage point. A gust of wind mists him with salty water, and he laughs. It's almost like he's flying again. The wingspan of the bird is huge. In shape, it reminds him of an egret, but it's much larger. It owns the sky.

The bird's flying suddenly becomes erratic. It seems to wobble in the sky, dropping several feet before flapping its wings and returning to glide. John tells himself that may be a normal flight pattern for this type of bird, but he recognizes the dread coiling in his stomach. The bird once again wobbles, tumbling even further before it begins to flap its wings. It looks as if it's trying to fly through mud.

"No, damn it!" John stands with his fists clenched.

It doesn't go down without a fight. The bird flaps its wings harder as if it hopes with force to break free from this death grip. Suddenly it stops, looking like a puppet whose string has been cut. It falls through the air in a spiral to the ground.

John runs, wobbling like the bird as he ignores the rocks in his way. It only takes him five minutes to get to the spot where based on trajectory the bird would have landed. He comes to a halt when he sees the bird wedged between two rocks. It's obviously dead, so why go any further? Because he's never taken the easiest course. His feet seem to move of their own accord, and soon he's staring down at the large bird. It's neck seems abnormally elongated, and there's white foam pouring from its mouth.

He wants to yell. Ask the Sequetarians what the hell they'd been thinking? But they're all dead just like the bird, so what's the point of staying angry? There is none. His rage goes out with the waves. John wishes the memory of what had happened would do the same.

 _As they step into the stone room, John notices that Lestam moves to the side. He could just be giving them room to look around, but considering how closely he's shadowed them throughout, the sudden granting of space makes John nervous._

 _"This is incredible." Rodney's running his hand across what a minute ago looked like an inscribed stone, but which now John sees is actually some sort of control panel._

 _"Rodney." John's voice is a warning._

 _"It's okay, Colonel Sheppard. There's nothing he can harm. Please feel free to look."_

 _"Thanks." Unease curls around John's spine. For a moment, he stands and watches Rodney. He can't help smiling at the wide-eyed wonder on Rodney's face, and he has to admit he's kind of curious as to what put it there. It's the curiosity that draws him forward. When he steps into the center of the room, a humming sound starts. John feels the sound through every inch of his body, almost as if he was generating it. The room grows brighter, and the stones begin to glow._

 _"Rodney, what did you do?"_

 _"Me? Nothing. I swear."_

 _"Listen, we're sorry...." John's apology drops off as he realizes Lestam has his head bowed like he's praying, and the room is filling with people._

The past is the past. He can't undo what's been done, so he needs to stop replaying it in his mind. Except there's nothing else for him to do. Initially he worked with Rodney to try to figure out a way to locate some bit of tech that wasn't fried that could help them find the planet's true Gate, rather than ones that seemed to be part of an inter-planetary system, but after a few weeks, it became clear he was more a distraction then any help. So he's left Rodney on his own to tinker, which leaves him far too much time to wander a mostly dead planet.

John kicks at the ground. He doesn't think he'll mention the bird to Rodney. What's the point?

He hears the sounds of footsteps and someone breathing heavily. "Oh good. You're here. Did you see it? The bird."

It figures Rodney would have seen it as well. "Yeah." John turns around, making sure to block the view of the bird, and sees that Rodney is bent over, hands on his knees breathing hard. When he thinks about the distance Rodney must have covered so quickly, he knows Rodney shared his excitement over seeing the bird. Crap.

Rodney straightens. "The wingspan on it was huge. Not quite dinosaur like, but still pretty big. Amazing. You don't think it's carnivorous do you? No matter. It's not like it would eat us." He squeezes his hands together and smiles. "It's something else, isn't it?"

John pauses, part of him wanting to lie, but he can't, not to Rodney. "It was."

"Was? Oh no." Rodney steps around John and sees the corpse of the bird. "Oh, that is so not good. But we should stay calm, right? There's no evidence that this means the wave has residual effects. For all we know the bird was hibernating when the wave went out, and the effect was delayed until it came out of hibernation. Hmmm, that makes sense."

"Birds don't hibernate."

Rodney scowled. "And what, you're an expert on alien bird life? Does this look like any bird you've ever seen before? Maybe this bird does hibernate. Besides, the Common Poorwill hibernates, so there are birds that hibernate."

"I forgot about that one." He has no idea if the bird hibernates or not, and really does it matter?

"Plus birds utilize torpor, so maybe the wave cause some sort of extended torpor."

"Sure."

"I'm sure it got hit with the initial wave. If the effects were residual, the plant life wouldn't be flourishing like it is. It would be affected as well. I think."

"I'm sure it's fine, Rodney."

They ran out of rations a while ago and had been going local as far as food. Luckily the planet was lush with vegetation or they would have starved, as hunting wasn't an option. There was nothing left to hunt.

"Of course, it's fine. We both feel fine. And we would have felt something by now, if we were going to die in a horrible manner. I'm sure of it."

John knows it's a sign of just how bad he's been that Rodney's trying in his way to be optimistic and encouraging. He needs to get his shit together as this isn't fair to Rodney, but that hasn't been an easy task. After all, he's the one who caused all of this destruction, even if it wasn't intentional. As a soldier, John is used to the idea of being a weapon, but he's never thought of himself as a weapon of mass destruction until now. He stares down at the bird, a large creature made small by death, and he feels a sharp pain as if someone broke his arm, clipped his wings.

 _Rodney looks at him, his mouth a slash of angry discontent. "I don't think I did anything. I think you triggered something." He points at their audience. "And I think they knew you would." Rodney steps down so that he's standing next to John. "I don't like being left in the dark, so an explanation would be a really good idea."_

 _Lestam raises his head and steps forward, but at first he doesn't speak, instead staring in awe at the lighted stones. Then he shakes his head and seems to force himself to focus. "Dr. McKay, Colonel Sheppard, I apologize, but the deception was necessary. We've waited so long, Colonel, we could not take the risk that you would not agree to initialize the weapon."_

 _"Weapon?" John exchanges a look with Rodney. The unease from earlier is now a bona fide bad feeling._

 _"Yes. Right now this device is sending out a wave that is blanketing the planet and altering the makeup of all its inhabitants so that going forward they will be protected from the Wraith."_

 _Rodney stares at them in horror. "You...what...." He shook his head. "Are you telling me my DNA is being altered in some manner right this moment?" His voice rises with the question._

 _"No. I'm sorry. Those in the control circle remain unaffected by the wave, and you cannot leave the circle until the process is complete. Regretfully, there is only enough energy to power the device this one time. I'm sorry we cannot do so again to include you, as it would be the right thing to do, considering without you we would never have been able to give our people this protection. We thank you for this gift and apologize for our deceit."_

 _"Well at least we won't be the ones dying and mutating into something," Rodney mutters._

 _"Not helping, Rodney." John focuses on Lestam. "How is this wave altering you?"_

 _"By making it so the Wraith can no longer feed on us."_

 _Shit. Was their wave somehow similar to the Hoffan drug_?

 _"Great, here we go again." Rodney glared at them. "So you become poison to the Wraith, and what part of your population is at risk to die off?"_

 _"Poison? No, the Ancestors would not have developed a course of action so crude. They simply can't feed on us, nor can they easily detect us. The weapon deprives the Wraith of using us as a food source. And there is no risk to the populace. What the Ancestors designed and left for us was meant for our protection. Until now we were not worthy of their protection. Today is a day we give thanks."_

"I think we're going to get another storm. Oh goody."

The sound of Rodney's voice brings John back to the present. It rains a lot here. John wonders if it always did or if the device somehow messed up the climate as well. The Ancients didn't seem to do anything small. He wishes he could erase from his mind all those people smiling cult-like and naïve, wrongly assuming the device would work. Even when the convulsions violently wracked his body, Lestam still believed, saying pain should be expected for such a great reward.

"Hey, did you hear me? We should go back before it gets too bad."

"Go on ahead. I'll follow in a minute."

A strong gust of wind rips into them and the bird. Feathers fly, one landing on his shoe.

 _"If the Ancients had made a device that made someone immune to the Wraith, why wouldn't they have used it?" Rodney's hands flew across the control panel. "Stupid Ancients leaving their time bomb unfinished projects all over the galaxy for people to stumble upon and do stupid, stupid things."_

 _"McKay, shut if off." Some of the people had stopped convulsing and now were lying on the floor, in what John hopes is just an unconscious state._

 _"I'm trying, but it's not like there's an off button." Rodney suddenly looks up. "Wait, do you feel that?"_

 _He doesn't need to ask what Rodney means, because yes, he does feel it. It's so strong that he almost expects to see the wave. John realizes he's felt it from the start, but now it's growing stronger. It almost feels like it's coming from within him rising out and blanketing everything. But that's insane._

 _Rodney stares at the panel before him and then looks up with wide panicked eyes. "John, it's you. You're powering this."_

 _He wants to deny that's the case. Except, he knows it's true. He thinks, "off, stop," but nothing seems to work. For once the technology does not obey his command. It's as if it wasn't designed with an abort feature._

 _Rodney steps down beside him. "We can't stop this. It wasn't designed to be stopped once it was started."_

 _John knows Rodney's right, but he can't just sit here and watch all these people die. He runs full force from the circle but he hits up against some kind of force field and is tossed back. Nonetheless, he tries again with the same result._

As usual Rodney was right. There had been nothing to be done. Two hours later the wave had shut off, and they were able to leave, but by then everyone on the planet was dead. Until today, he'd thought every animal had died at that moment as well. John stares down at the bird, wanting it to twitch, for it to be a fighter and to have survived. Of course, it remains dead having only been lucky enough to take one last flight before the end.

There's a touch to the back of his neck and then the press of lips. "You're not nearly as fast as you think." Rodney's breath is warm, making John realize just how cold he is. "And well, I'm not really good with the whole waiting thing, so why don't you come with me now?"

John turns and kisses Rodney, feeling hands slide around his waist, warm and demanding, and alive. It starts to rain, a light drizzle that he barely notices. Everything fades but Rodney. He's the only thing that matters. As John pushes up Rodney's shirt, he finds his wrist halted.

"As much as I really don't want to stop right now, I prefer living to have fantastic sex again and again to dying before getting to orgasm." Rodney touches the side of his face. "We really need to go now."

The sky is almost completely dark and the rain is picking up as is the wind. "Damn it." What is wrong with him? He knows better than to keep them both out in a goddamn storm.

Without a word, John grabs Rodney's hand and starts moving. He guides them swiftly along the rocks, steadying Rodney when he stumbles.

"Sheppard, slow down."

John ignores Rodney. They can't afford to stop. The storm is nearly upon them, and he's put them at risk by not heeding Rodney's warning. _Stupid, John, you're going to end up getting him killed_. No, he's not going to let that happen.

The house comes into view. It's the smallest port in a storm.

Rodney yanks his arm out of John's grasp. He restrains his initial urge, which is to grab it right back, as he realizes Rodney is actually moving faster on his own, his balance better. Guilt batters at him, but he pushes it aside. They need to cover the last bit of distance to the house. The rain pelts down hard enough to leave red marks on his arm, and the wind takes his breath away.

It begins to thunder just as they're opening the door to the house. As soon as both of them have made it inside, Rodney darts for the shield controls. Then for a few seconds, they both listen to the faint hum that indicates the shield is active as they try to recover their breath. For the first time it occurs to John that perhaps the planet's climate was always temperamental. Otherwise why would a small house have a shield to protect it from storms? He wonders why this thought only occurs to him now.

Rodney's talking, but John barely hears him. All he can think is that he almost got Rodney killed. He needs to pull it together. It's not the first awful thing he's seen in his life, not even close. Except he was the conduit for this catastrophe, something within him allowed this to happen, even if he wasn't a willing participant.

Something hits his chest. John blinks and looks down to see Rodney pressing a towel against him.

"Okay, how about drying off before the puddle you're creating drowns us?"

John nods and starts taking off his wet clothes.

"It's freezing in here."

He lays his clothes out in the corner, flat to dry. A hand touches his neck, and for a second he startles, but then he leans back feeling Rodney's cold skin pressing against his. Warmth builds, and John focuses on that pleasant feeling.

"That was your cue to say you'll warm me up. Are you going to make me do all the work?" While Rodney speaks teasingly, there's an undercurrent of hurt.

He should apologize. Tell Rodney he's sorry for shutting him out. He doesn't mean to do it, but lately he can't seem to stop. But the words won't come. All John can do is swallow and reach for Rodney's hand and wrap it around his waist, squeezing tightly.

"Are you okay?"

John doesn't answer that question. Rodney already knows the answer is no. Instead, he turns around, puts his hands on Rodney's face and kisses him. He hopes it conveys to Rodney all he can't seem to put into words. _I'm sorry. I'm so damn lost. I need you._

"I'm so cold. I think every last brain cell is frozen. Let's get in bed and under some blankets."

"Nah, it would take an ice age to freeze all of your brain cells."

"Hahaha. Don't ever go into comedy."

Rodney drags him under the mound of blankets he keeps piled on the bed. For a moment, he's reminded of draping sheets over anything he could find as a kid to build a tent and hide from the world. He closes his eyes and presses his hand against Rodney's chest. _Make me forget_. _Let me hide._

His hand is lifted, and Rodney knots their fingers together. John squeezes, holding on tight.

"You're not alone. You know that, right?"

"Of course I do, Rodney. I hear you complaining all the time." He swallows hard, hoping for a sarcastic response, which doesn't come.

"John." Rodney puts a hand on the side of his chin, turning his face.

There's nothing he can do but open his eyes and look into Rodney's sad, serious gaze. "I know."

Rodney pushes him on his back and straddles him. "You better know," he mutters and then he presses a kiss to John's chest.

John wraps his arms around Rodney, reveling in the feel of the warm skin beneath his fingers. He arches upward, brushing their cocks together, and the throaty moan Rodney makes grounds him. This. He needs this.

"Close your eyes." Rodney swallows, and his voice shakes for a second. "Just feel me touch you, ok?"

"Yeah, that's ok, Rodney. It's good." John smiles and closes his eyes.

Rodney's hands move down his body, building heat with every stroke. He feels a thumb stroke across his cock, a slide across the tip and a feather touch down the shaft, and then the teasing touch is gone. John twists slightly, trying to see how far he needs to go to bring himself back in touch with Rodney's body. It's too far, as he meets air in every direction he twists.

"God, you're gorgeous."

The reverent tone to Rodney's voice makes John uncomfortable. "And you talk too much."

"Are you implying there are better things I could be doing with my mouth? Hmm, you may be right. Perhaps more research is necessary."

There's a touch on the inside of his arm. It feels like Rodney is running the side of his thumb along the skin there. John begins to count —five, six, seven. The repetition is giving him goosebumps and making him harder. Just when he's about to complain it's too much, Rodney's hand wraps around his cock, and he's fisting it in the same rhythm he's using on John's arm. It's almost sensory overload.

"Oh fuck, Rodney."

Rodney stops stroking his cock, but keeps his grip. The touch on his arm is replaced by the feel of a wet tongue.

"You know, I don't think that's the best use of my mouth."

There's not even a moment for thought before Rodney's tongue is lapping at his right nipple, teeth grazing it. "Christ." He can't help rocking his hips and pushing his cock through Rodney's hand.

Then the tongue is gone as is Rodney's hand from his cock. There's a brief temptation to open his eyes and see what Rodney is doing, but the ride of not knowing is so much better.

"That was definitely a really good use of my mouth, but I can do better. Genius after all."

Vibration travels through his cock. Is Rodney humming against him? The question leaves his mind as Rodney sucks his cock. John reaches out needing to touch Rodney, and his flailing hand hits a shoulder. He feels warm skin beneath his hand as his body soars.

When Rodney's mouth goes away, he whimpers, actually goddamn whimpers. All of this is so much more intense with his eyes closed. Rodney slips out from beneath his hand and for a second he has a moment of irrational panic that maybe he's gone. He crushes down the desperate sound trying to escape and only half succeeds.

"Shh, it's okay. Raise your legs."

"Oh God, yes. Please Rodney."

He feels the tip of Rodney's cock breach his opening, and he strokes himself a few times, but stops as he doesn't want to come yet, and he's so close. John clenches the sheets as Rodney rocks into him.

Rodney starts to babble as he often does during sex, but this time John is too far gone to catch half of what he's saying, although he knows he heard the word love.

"Harder, Rodney."

His request is met, and it's not long after that he comes. Rodney doesn't come, but John feels him pull out. He hears the sound of him stroking his cock.

"Let me." He doesn't open his eyes. "Guide me."

"Yes, you, oh that's an excellent idea."

John feels his hand wrapped around Rodney's cock. "No, lie down and guide my mouth to your cock."

"Oh, even better."

Once in position, John slides his hands over Rodney's hips and then maps the space from hip to Rodney's cock with his thumbs. The landscape memorized by touch, he takes Rodney into his mouth.

"John."

It doesn't take long for Rodney to come. John swallows balancing a hand on Rodney's thigh.

Afterward, eyes still closed, he crawls upward and collapses. He doesn't think he could move now if he needed to. He's blissfully tired and his mind is blank. John falls asleep with Rodney's arm around his waist.

He wakes briefly when he feels Rodney get out of bed, but he's still too tired to move. There's no reason to get up anyway, so he dozes not quite asleep, but his brain is far from active. At some point, Rodney sits next to him and strokes his hair, he curls into the touch. After that moment, he must have fallen back asleep because the next thing he knows he's wide awake, his heart pounding.

"John!" Rodney shouts his name.

Covers are tossed off the bed, as John comes to his feet instantly. He's about to break into a run when Rodney comes into view and throws clothes at him.

"Get dressed. Hurry up this is important."

Worry quickly turns to annoyance. "McKay, what the hell is going on?" He steps into his pants and throws on his shirt, not bothering to smooth down his hair.

"It had to have been shielded. That's what why we didn't get any readings. Oh my God, we've been right next to it all the time." Rodney's hands are moving at light speed and he's bouncing up and down.

"Right next to what?"

"A massive energy source."

John's mouth goes dry. "You think it's powering that weapon again."

"What? No. I mean I guess that's a possibility." Rodney waves his hand dismissively. "It's unlikely. What's more likely is there's a Gate down there."

"We looked everywhere for a Gate to get off this place. And you're telling me what, we've been walking by it every day?" John bit his lip. "I want to get off this damn planet as much as you do, but...."

"No, you need to listen to me. I went outside to see what damage the storm had done, and there was a new structure next door. As violent as that storm was I highly doubt it dropped a building perfectly in place, so I grabbed a scanner. And there is a power source down there." Rodney grabs John's arm. "Come on. It'll be easier to explain if you see it."

Sure enough when he steps outside there is a building that wasn't there yesterday, and there's no way they could have missed it. It's a tall but thin building spiraling toward the sky. It's clearly of Ancient design—elegant, beautiful and right now for John, thoroughly terrifying.

As Rodney steps closer with the scanner, the door lights up in a blue pattern that reminds him of the Chair back on Atlantis. John wraps an arm around Rodney's waist and drags him backward.

"What are you doing? That hurt!" Rodney pulls away. "Tell me was that really necessary?"

"Leave it alone. Just leave it alone. Rodney...." John doesn't know what else to say. He wants to drag Rodney back to bed and pretend they never saw this latest Ancient landmine. The risk is too great. He can't lose, no he won't even think about something like that.

"It's going to be ok." Rodney grabs John's shoulder and pulls so that their foreheads rest together. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

"Then just listen." Rodney squeezes John's shoulder and straightens. "All we were able to find were those bastardized gates, and far too many of them. If you didn't know better, which of course we do, you would think all the Sequetarians had were inter-planetary gates."

"Yes, McKay, I have been here with you the whole time. I know about the 'unimaginative, only go as far as your backdoor gates' as you've called them many times. What does this have to do with the creepy building in front of us?"

"Creepy? Huh, you think it's creepy? It sort of reminds me of home, Atlantis, that is. I mean the architecture is obviously Ancient." Rodney waves his hand. "Anyway, obviously we came here through a Gate. Think about it. Why were there so many of those limited gates? Because it must have been their transportation system, and they connected it to the Gate, so when you come back from traveling outside the planet you can tell the Gate which mini-gate—I'm calling them mini-gates for now, but I get to name them later—is your destination, and voila you're there. Lestam must have given it the coordinates, so we were immediately transported away from here." He starts walking toward the door again.

"Rodney." John hates the way his voice shakes.

"You know we need to go in there."

He knows Rodney's right. It just scares the living daylights out of him.

"It's my turn to save the day." Rodney holds up a finger and points. "And in there is what I need to do it."

"Ok."

Rodney smiles. "Good let's see what's behind Ancient door number one." He rubs his hands together and reaches toward the door.

"Wait!"

"Sheppard. This is ridiculous!"

John ignores Rodney's outburst. Instead, he takes Rodney's hand and knots their fingers together, holding on tight. "Go ahead."

Rodney stares at their hands, eyes wide, and John looks away embarrassment bubbling up, but he doesn't let go. If they're going in, they're going in together.

"All right." Rodney puts his hand beside the door, and this time the blue pattern solidifies, and then a door slides open.

They step inside, and to John's surprise nothing happens. Every step they take with no sign of danger should ease John's mind, but it doesn't. He keeps waiting for the blow to come.

Rodney pulls on their hands. "I need my hand to work miracles. So it would help if you didn't crush it."

"Sorry." John lets go with chagrin. He had forgotten he was holding Rodney's hand.

They walk down a long corridor that leads to a large room, gleaming white with high ceilings, and sure enough, Rodney's right, there's a Gate there. John wonders if he's dreaming, and the yearning he feels for home is so strong that he thinks it might bring him to his knees. He can't stand another day walking through this graveyard, an entire world on his conscience, as he's beginning to forget if he's one of the living or the dead.

"John."

Rodney's voice cracks, and John realizes he actually said the last part aloud. Shit.

"You are not responsible for this." Rodney pokes him in the chest. "Neither of us are. I'm sorry the Sequetarians paid for their stupidity with their lives, but it was their fault.

"I know." And the rational part of him knows that's the truth, but it doesn't help because when he closes his eyes, he feels that power running through him killing an entire world.

"I'm brilliant, remember? So you should listen to me, because I of course am right."

John laughs and tries not to let his voice shake when he responds. "Yes, you're always right."

"Particularly this time." Rodney pulls him close. "And I promise I will get us home." He lets go and approaches the DHD. "Ok, let's see what we've got to work with because you know the universe never makes it easy for us. But I'm sure I'm up to the challenge."

"I know you are." John sounds confident, because Rodney has enough to deal with without having to put up with his bullshit.

When Rodney touches the chevrons on the DHD, nothing happens. He grunts and drops to his knees. "Huh, I've never seen it configured like this. Oh, I see the damage now. Must have been an overload. I'll have to...yes, of course."

That sounds positive, but John's afraid to hope, so he stays silent, telling himself he doesn't want to interrupt. After what seems like an eon, Rodney stands and brushes off his knees. "Well it's a monumental amount of work because they obviously had no idea what they were doing when they were wiring their inter-planetary gate system, but give me a few days, and we should be home."

"A few days?"

"Yes, sorry, I can't work any faster than that."

"No, Rodney, that isn't what I meant. That's good, that's real good." John smiles. He's not sure what he feels at this moment. It's too surreal. There's a way home. "I'll let you work." He's not sure what he's going to do while Rodney figures this out, but the last thing he wants to be is a distraction.

"Whoa, not so fast. You think you're leaving me to do all the work? I need an assistant." Rodney snaps his fingers and points. "Terminal to the right."

"Yes, sir." John heads over to the terminal Rodney indicated, and this time the grin feels real. A giddy feeling takes over. "Your orders?"

"Bring up the readings...oh wait." Rodney starts mumbling.

"Do you want to share with the rest of the class, Rodney?"

"No, thinking, be quiet."

They spend three days bickering and becoming fully familiar with the Sequetarian's Gate System. When they finally contact Atlantis, it seems almost anti-climatic, that is until they step through the Gate, and Ronon is lifting him off his feet in a bear hug and then Teyla is hugging him just as tight.

The celebrations and even the debriefings are welcome, as Atlantis sings "home" in his veins. However, he's just as glad when it's finally just him and Rodney sitting out on the dock with a couple of beers.

"This is good." Rodney waves his beer at the ocean.

"Yeah, it is."

They're silent for a while, but it's a good kind of silence, the kind where he's completely in synch with Rodney. A breeze blows, and John shivers. They're not really dressed for the night air.

"Ok, freezing and tired. Shall we head back to your quarters?"

"Good idea." He stands. "The separate quarters thing is going to take some getting used to."

"Yeah, strange right?" Rodney swallows. "So I was thinking about that. Maybe we might want to see about joint quarters, something with a view. I mean if you want to. No need to answer right now. Just something to think about."

Once the thought would have scared him, but not now. "I think that's another good idea."

"You do? Excellent." Rodney beams at him. "I have a couple of places I was thinking."

"You can drag me on the grand tour, tomorrow. After we take out one of the Jumpers."

"Where are we going?"

John knows that soon the time they spent trapped on that planet will be locked away in a mental box, and he'll try to never open that box. But right now, he wants to tell Rodney, _thank you, I wouldn't have gotten through it without you_. He wants to apologize and say _sorry I wasn't stronger_ , but he can't put any of that into words, so instead he says, "Anywhere, everywhere. Just me and you, flying."

They kiss, and as always somehow Rodney seems to understand everything he can't say.


End file.
